


Divine Grace

by biscuitsandjam



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Falling In Love, M/M, Religion, Songfic, everyone is soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:07:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23555812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biscuitsandjam/pseuds/biscuitsandjam
Summary: "A soulmate is someone to whom we feel profoundly connected, as though the communicating and communing that take place between us were not the product of intentional efforts, but rather a divine grace." -Thomas MooreA progression, several emotions, and a desperate plea to my (and Cas') spirituality.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Divine Grace

**Author's Note:**

> Turning misogynistic country songs into gay anthems is the real upcycling. Song is God Made Girls by RaeLynn.

_ Somebody’s gotta wear a pretty skirt _

Castiel wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it was not this. Dean twirled and Castiel bit his tongue sharply. He was about to question why, again, this particular disguise was needed, but found himself unable to speak. Dean grinned and led him out of the bunker.

_ Somebody’s gotta be the one to flirt _

Dean hid his nerves at how close the call actually was with a laugh. Cas eyed him as if he could see right through him, so he made a quip. It made Sam give an amused huff, but Cas just kept looking at Dean like that. As if he knew and didn’t know, as if he was completely innocent and wholly unsurprised. Dean made another joke, too fast and too defensive. Cas blinked.

_ Somebody’s gotta wanna hold his hand _

It was not the first time that Dean had pulled him along somewhere when all he wanted to do was to stand still. It happened all the time when he fixated on physical items. It happened when he was going too slowly or on any number of other occasions. Castiel did not mention that he sometimes waited just long enough for Dean to get impatient and drag him along.

_ So God made girls _

Dean had never met God. He supposed that neither had many angels, but at least they were slightly closer to Him on the chain of command. They could, theoretically, find out what God’s will was when He assigned Castiel to protect him. If they weren’t such jerks, that is.

_ Somebody’s gotta make him get dressed up _

Castiel raised an eyebrow at the uniform Dean held up. He felt much more comfortable in his suit and coat than the coveralls. The name patch on them said James, and he felt uncomfortable using Jimmy’s name in his body. The mission required him to be someone different. If that was what it took, Castiel must push past it. Dean beamed at him when he came back out, and Castiel decided that it wouldn’t be that bad.

_ Give him a reason to wash that truck _

Dean loved his Baby. She was the only physical thing that he cared about. The only object that he took exquisite care of, that he could honestly say he loved. Dean thought sometimes that he loved people too easily. Unlike every person he’d loved, Baby had never hurt him. Even Sam, even Cas had made mistakes. He didn’t love them any less for it, perhaps more, but they weren’t Baby. He guessed that was a good thing, though, because loving a car and loving a person were two very different things.

_ Somebody’s gotta teach him how to dance _

Castiel did not blush, because he was an angel and angels did not blush. He merely dropped his head to Dean’s shoulder because it was a comfortable position and the song was slow. He was not blushing and he ignored the ache in his neck from the stretch. Castiel thought that this really was not difficult, he did not need the practice. They swayed to the rhythm.

_ So God made girls _

Sometimes, Dean felt himself breaking, broken. He cried and screamed and threw things and nothing made him feel better. He didn’t know why he had been chosen for this. He couldn’t do it. But every time, he picked himself up. If Cas believed he could do it, he would try. If some Holy, immortal, powerful, terrifying being could put his trust in an insignificant human, Dean would damn well try.

_ He needed something soft and loud _

Castiel had seen millions of perfect sunrises, had walked through Monet’s garden and seen the formation of the first crystal and tasted the clearest rain. He remembered the whitest snow and the most luminous night. Castiel had thought he knew beauty, but he didn’t have a clue. He had never seen staccato, aimless motion be so graceful it hurt to watch. He had never heard words that rang in his ears like the sweetest Heaven. Until he met Dean Winchester.

_ And sweet and proud _

It almost brought him to his knees, sometimes, the simple power that Cas held. The way he held Dean’s life in his hands and cradled it like it deserved to be saved. Like Dean deserved to be saved. How he spoke quietly and strongly because he didn’t need to shout to be heard. How he seemed to know exactly how he affected people and still smiled at random strangers.

_ But tough enough to break a heart _

In battle, Castiel thought that coordination was ingrained. His brethren had always fought side by side and back to back as if they knew what each other were thinking, and he fought with the Winchesters much the same way. It wasn’t a surprise when he had to fight with another hunter and she accidentally tripped him, but it was an awakening. He hugged her at the end, thanked her. She merely held on tightly.

_ Something beautiful, unbreakable _

Dean had good balance. He could stand on one leg while drunk much better than the rest of his family, at least. He didn’t generally fall. It was just that he wasn’t paying attention and Cas happened to be there to catch him. It had nothing to do with the fact that Cas looked so strong and capable as he strode forward with the sun at his back. And absolutely did not relate at all to how easily Cas caught him and how close their faces were when he checked him over.

_ That lights up in the dark _

An angel’s grace was iridescent and blue. Before God had created the universe, and it was all dark, Castiel had seen his grace. He hadn’t found anything similar again until millennia later. In the low light of a cheap hotel room, Dean’s soul glowed as brightly as Castiel’s grace had before any light even existed.

_ So God made girls, God made girls _

It wasn’t love, Dean thought, this feeling. It couldn’t be. He loved Baby, he loved Sam, he’d loved Bobby. He’d fallen in love with so many girls in the past. This felt nothing like that. He was not in love with Castiel. He didn’t know what this was, but love was nothing compared to this overwhelming, terrifying, unwavering feeling. Love was not all-consuming and helpless and so damn perfect that Dean thought that Hell would now be the absence of it.

_ He stood back and told the boys, “I’m ‘bout to rock your world.” _

Castiel knew now that he had never truly felt emotions before becoming involved on Earth. He’d known only obedience. No joy at success, no fear of failure. Appreciation of creation without the awe that it deserved. Castiel thought that he could no longer live without his emotions and the things that provoked them.

_ And God made girls (for singing in your front seat) _

He felt it when he looked shotgun and Castiel was staring at the radio as it blasted music, when Cas’ confused face turned to him as he sang along. He felt it when Cas started to tap the beat on the table a week later. He felt it so often that he settled into the emotion of love-not-love. It was painfully sweet, beautifully agonizing, and Dean couldn’t get enough.

_ And God made girls (for dancing to their own beat) _

He hadn’t understood a lot of things before Dean showed them to him. This time, it was favorites. He didn’t get why someone cared for one thing over every other thing of its type. Until he heard Dean singing along to an old record, until Dean was dancing around the bunker listening to the same song sometime later. Suddenly, Castiel had a favorite song. And he realized that he’d always had a favorite person.

_ He stood back and told the boys, “I’m ‘bout to rock your world.” _

Dean had almost died many times, had actually died almost as many. He knew how it felt to cling to life with everything you had and to just give in to the darkness. He knew about the torture of Hell and the beauty of Heaven and the loneliness of Purgatory. So he could say with complete certainty that he would die a thousand times over if Castiel asked. If Cas told him to, Dean would resign himself to much more than 30 years in Hell. It scared him, his devotion, but he did not fight it. He knew that Cas would never, but it didn’t stop the sentiment.

_ Then God made girls _

Faith was Castiel’s main driving force for so long that he didn’t realize how weak it was. How empty. He no longer needed faith in God. Because faith implied a lack of proof. God had given him more than proof that his path was the right one. God had given him Dean, and nothing could be stronger evidence. Faith was unnecessary when one had true belief.

_ Somebody’s gotta be the one to cry _

Dean stopped short at the sight that greeted him when he got out of the shower. Cas, curled up in Dean’s bed, was sniffling and sobbing. Quietly, Dean walked over and laid a hand on his arm. Cas didn’t react. Dean slowly put more and more of his weight on the bed, until he was spooning Cas. Neither of them spoke and Cas didn’t move until he had finished breaking down. He turned around in Dean’s arms and held him close.

_ Somebody’s gotta let him drive _

Dean was speeding, even for him, but he was laughing and whooping and Castiel wasn’t willing to stop him. He had insisted that Castiel needed cheering up. Castiel did not mention that it was merely a bad night, that they all had nightmares sometimes. The wind was cool and the sun was warm and the music was loud and Castiel did feel better.

_ Give him a reason to hold that door _

He never mentioned how weak it made him when Cas took control, but he was pretty sure that everyone he had ever met knew it. Sam teased him constantly about his fragile masculinity. Dean thought that if he really knew how comfortable he was with Cas’ masculinity, Sam would have made completely different jokes. He’d always loved to be chivalrous, and that didn’t stop, it just felt so damn good to have it reciprocated sometimes.

_ So God made girls _

Castiel rarely prayed. He knew that it only reached other angels, after all. Every once in a while, he would focus hard enough to be able to pray directly to God with no one else listening in. When this happened, he usually said anything and everything that came to mind. This time, it was only a few words. Thank you, Castiel told his Father, and I love him.

_ Somebody’s gotta put up a fight _

It was too bloody. Dean hadn’t seen this amount of carnage in so long. He’d been dealing with demons and he’d forgotten the damage mere vampires could cause. He’d forgotten how the sight once filled him with revolt and satisfaction in equal measures. It had been a long time since Dean had cared about taking down something that killed individual people, that didn’t threaten the entire world. He wished he was still the kind of person who could care like that.

_ Make him wait on a Saturday night _

Castiel hadn’t been down to Earth in much too long. He knew that the humans didn’t need him, but he liked to at least check in on them once in a while. It made him feel useful, for one thing, when everything in Heaven moved at the pace of eons. But he was needed here for the moment. He determinedly did not think about how Dean had not prayed to him the entire time he’d been gone.

_ To walk downstairs and blow his mind _

It had been far too long since Dean had had any time to himself. He’d been so consumed with hunt after hunt, trying to mask feelings of stalling, of uselessness while Heaven moved on without them. He preferred it this way. Dean’s thoughts were best when he didn’t let them settle. But of course, whenever he most needed a distraction, none came. He returned to his room in the bunker and tried to sleep. His mind wandered but he did not drift off.

_ So God made girls _

A smile shone on his face as Castiel made his excuses and flew to the bunker. He would never say that he’d been waiting for the call, but he had been. He’d heard it loud and clear when Dean prayed to him. He materialized in the bunker, seeing no one in the common areas. Castiel walked to Dean’s room with a new purpose. He’d missed Earth and he’d missed Dean.

_ Something that can wake him up _

Maybe he had dozed off, because seemingly a moment later, Cas opened his door. He laughed at the difference from just popping up to walking in. It was the difference between trespassing and visiting, to Dean. He waved and got up. Cas wanted to know why he was praying. He didn’t seem like he needed help. Dean smiled, joked about just wanting to see him.

_ And call his bluff _

Castiel realized, with the certainty of a doomed man, that Dean was being honest. He’d progressed from literally reading into words to understanding sarcasm to the knowledge that sarcasm was just another way of telling the truth. Castiel did not know when this had happened, but he was glad that he did. He did not say any of this, merely walked over to hug Dean, still in his dirty hunting outfit. He had missed Dean, too.

_ And drag his butt to church _

With absolutely no knowledge of how to work a washing machine, Castiel decided that he was going to wash Dean’s sheets for him. When he returned from a shopping run, Dean laughed at how wet Cas had managed to get. They cleaned up together and then volunteered to wash Sam’s laundry, too. When the last load was in, Cas pulled him close and Dean kissed him softly. There were no fireworks. There was a lot of light, though, as Cas accidentally shorted the single bulb in the laundry room. Dean laughed at him again, and then they kissed some more.

_ Something that is hard to handle _

They fought the next day. Because Castiel needed to leave and Dean thought he was being selfish. That they couldn’t even talk first. Instead of an actual conversation, there was a lot of screaming. Castiel was never able to articulate how closely the other angels were watching for him to screw up. Dean was never able to hide his hurt feelings. Castiel flew off without a promise to come back. It would all be for nothing if he was reassigned. He still hated it.

_ Something fragile _

Dean refused to waste his energy thinking about Cas. He certainly did not allow himself to replay all of his memories of the angel and wish for just one more day. Because Cas had left now, Dean was sure of it. He’d gone too far this time, after everything, and Cas would go back to Heaven and forget all about him and come back to Earth after humans had all killed each other and think that he had known a human, once. So Dean didn’t think about Cas.

_ To hold him when he hurts _

Castiel was back in less than a day. He had orders, after all. A new mission for the Winchester brothers to prove themselves. If he came into the Bunker with a gust of wind and an angry look that ended in an actual conversation, no angel would be any the wiser. If he happened to spend the entire time without leaving Dean’s side, well, he was meant to watch over him. If he whispered into a sleeping mind, over and over, that he loved Dean Winchester, he was sure Heaven would forgive his transgressions. After all, God had a plan.

_ So God made girls _

**Author's Note:**

> <3


End file.
